


Mal's Armor

by savandthestars



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Core Four (Disney: Descendants), Mal-centric (Disney)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26295082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savandthestars/pseuds/savandthestars
Summary: The Core Four find themselves in Storybrooke.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	Mal's Armor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [squadhanjis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squadhanjis/gifts).



> lol i tried my best
> 
> Food mention

“Here’s as good a place as any. Pull over Jay.”

Jay parked in front of the diner following the direction of Mal’s pointed finger. The sign glowed Granny’s Diner in the twilight, although it looked bigger and fancier than any diner Mal had seen. All four of them, Mal, Evie, Carlos, and Jay, had grown up on the Isle of the Lost. The dreary name was a discredit to the “floating pile of shit” the teens had nicknamed the island; their home instilled feelings much worse than simply feeling lost. It wasn’t uncommon for kids to grow up on the street with rags for clothes and fighting for every last breadcrumb. The only thing scarcer than food was a steady home life- none of the four kids knew who their parents were. They chose instead to become their own family and vowed to escape the only home they had ever known.

They had made that vow six years ago. After getting in a fairly serious fight with the pirate crew, stealing a stash of money, and driving off in the first car they could jimmy open, that vow had come true. Mal had half-ordered, half-begged Jay to keep driving as far as the tank of gas would let him, and Jay hadn’t needed much convincing. The small town of Storybrooke was their first stop dictated by the nagging needle pointed at the **E**.

“We can get something to eat here,” Mal said. The statement was obvious, but it was Mal’s way of staying in charge. She was the unofficial leader of their gang, and if the Isle had taught her anything, it was that only the most powerful survive. And she was a survivor.

Evie peered out the window. “Looking like this? We don’t exactly blend in.” Mal knew she had a point. She looked down at her own outfit- her leather jacket was discolored with a mix of age and dried bloodstains and her jeans were ripped all down her legs with mystery stains dotting the denim. She compared that to the residents of the town walking through the streets- outfits were fitted and pressed and noticeably lacking in mystery stains.

“We’ll be fine,” Mal decided after a beat. She sounded more confident than she felt. “What, are they gonna turn away paying customers?”

With that, Mal opened the door and stepped out of the car. Her friends quickly followed suit. It was no secret that they were hungry, and all four of them had done worse to get food than parading down a suburban street in rags.

A bell rang when Mal opened the door. The only one that paid them any attention was the girl at the counter who stopped writing in her notebook and stared. Mal didn’t think she had any right to judge their appearance- with the red-streaked hair and piercings galore, this chick would fit in better on the Isle than in this picture-perfect town.

“Sit anywhere you like,” the chick told them as she went back to writing down an order for a woman at the counter. The four kids grabbed menus from the counter as they made their way to a booth in the back of the room.

As soon as they sat down Carlos tapped Mal on the shoulder. He spoke quietly so that only their table could hear, “Can we even afford any of this? This place looks nice.”

“What’s it say?” Mal handed him a menu. None of them were particularly good at reading, but Carlos had the best chance of getting through the words.

The other three watched his eyes scan the pages. “I think we’ll be okay if we stick to the small stuff. Just ask for water to drink- that’s usually free.” He leaned closer to his friends so they could see where he was pointing. “See? Just like a grilled cheese or something. Or a cup of soup. That would be okay.”

“I’ll eat anything,” Jay said as he closed his menu. Mal and Evie both nodded in agreement.

“Anything?” the waitress chick asked as she walked over to the table. Mal rolled her eyes. No matter where they were, Jay had a habit of getting girls to fall all over him.

Mal handed her the stack of menus. “Four grilled cheeses. And water.”

“Well okay then,” the chick took the menus and walked back to the counter. Mal couldn’t help but notice how short and tight her skirt was and she found herself staring longer than she wanted.

“How’s your arm?” Evie’s question brought her back to reality. She rolled up her sleeve and rubbed the scrap of cloth posing as a bandage around her forearm. It still ached. What had started as a small fight between her and Harry and blown up into a full, very serious, swordfight between the pirates and her gang. Mal’s blood started to boil as she recalled her time spent with Harry and, by association, Uma’s pirate crew. She wasn’t one to get hung up over a stupid boy, but pleasures were hard to find on the Isle, and Mal couldn’t deny that sex with Harry was a pleasure. But sex had turned into a relationship and before long there was more fighting than fucking. Mal no longer needed to go out onto the streets to earn some bruises and scrapes, all she had to do was look at Harry the wrong way.

Mal had made it clear that Evie, Jay, and Carlos were not allowed to interfere with the situation. The three friends resigned themselves to holding their tongue and silently patching Mal back up when she would come home. Mal saw each injury as a sign of her strength; she was stronger than whatever pain Harry could bring her way.

The final straw had come two days ago when Harry had made an appearance at the gang’s hideaway to pick Mal up for a day of looting. Evie had answered the door and before Mal had even made her way to greet him, Evie was yelling at Harry and Harry responded with his fists. Before Mal had time to think, she launched over Evie on the ground and had given Harry everything she had, including her fists, a small knife, and more screamed swear words than she knew she had in her.

It had certainly been a choice, but in hindsight perhaps not the one Mal should have gone with. Before long, she and her friends had found themselves fighting Uma, Harry, Gil, and the rest of the pirates as they ran through the dirty streets searching for an escape route. None of them had escaped unscathed, but Mal’s almost certainly fractured forearm (delivered by the hook-handed boy himself) was the ugliest.

“I’ll live,” Mal pulled her sleeve back down and folded her arms, a clear sign that the conversation was over.

But Evie was never one for taking hints. Or maybe she was and just didn’t care. Either way, the conversation continued against Mal’s will.

“Okay. How are you feeling? You know we’re here for you.” Mal looked at her friends sitting at the table with her. Each bruise and scrape she could see on them was a testament to Evie’s statement. They had proven time and time again that they were there for her.

Mal leaned back in her seat and rolled her eyes. Feelings were a sign of weakness. And Mal was not weak.

But she knew she couldn’t ignore the emotions that were bubbling inside of her. No matter how hard she tried, they always came rising to the surface. Back on the Isle, she would normally roam the streets and look for an excuse to stab something (or somebody), but it didn’t take a genius to see that there was a strict no stabbing policy in Storybrooke.

Luckily, the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of an old woman from the back of the diner.

“Ruby!” the old woman screeched. “I thought I asked you to clean up back there!”

The waitress chick rolled her eyes. “How am I supposed to do anything when you have me working the counter all day?”

“Well maybe if you rolled out of bed earlier, you would find time. Do you think I need one more thing to do than to pick up the slack around here?” The old woman threw the rags she was carrying on the counter in an attempt to solidify her point.

“Fine! You work the counter then.” Ruby pulled off the apron she was wearing, thrust it and the notepad into the woman’s hands, and stormed out of the diner and into the back.

The old woman huffed and puffed as she tidied the counter before serving the woman at the counter who had had a front row ticket to the screaming match.

“Sorry, Emma. You know how Ruby is,” she said as she handed the woman a coffee mug. “Can I get you anything else? Some fries maybe?”

“I’m fine, really.”

“Suit yourself. Just let me know if you change your mind. It’s not like it’s busy around here or anything.” The old woman gestured to the mostly empty tables. The woman named Emma turned around in her chair to take a quick glance at the place. Her eyes stopped at the table of misfits. Mal locked eyes with her, but it was quickly broken by Emma turning back to face the counter.

The old woman had already moved on from the conversation, bringing over the four sandwiches and drinks to Mal and her friends.

“Here you are, kids. And you let me know if you need anything else.”

The kids grabbed at their meals and made no attempt to hide how hungry they were. Carlos was the only one who remembered to say a quick “thank you” between mouthfuls of French fries.

“Mm-hm,” the woman put her hands on her hips as she watched the kids eat. “You all aren’t from around here, are you?”

If Mal’s mouth wasn’t full of melted cheese, she would have responded with a “none of your fucking business”. Unfortunately, Evie took it upon herself to answer.

“No. Out of town.”

“Mm-hm. Where from?”

“Pretty far. Probably haven’t heard of it.”

“Mm-hm. Try me.”

“The Isle of the Lost.”

That answer gave the old woman pause. Mal wished more than ever that Evie were more comfortable with lying, but the bubbly girl just didn’t have it in her.

The woman gave a small sigh. “Well as long as none of my silverware goes missing, I guess we’re all okay.” And with that, she made her way back to the counter and leaned into Emma’s space. Mal had a fairly good idea what the gossip was about.

Jay reached out and picked up the saltshaker. “You know, she didn’t mention anything about saltshakers going missing.”

“Put it down, Jay.”

“Whatever. Looks worthless anyway.” Jay went back to eating.

Evie put her sandwich down to reach for the ketchup. “You know, M, you didn’t get a chance to tell us how you’re doing.” She sniffed the open bottle before giving it a nod of approval and squirting some ketchup on her plate.

“Oh? I thought we had covered the subject.”

“I don’t think telling us you’ll live qualifies as covering the subject,” Carlos added.

Mal huffed. “I don’t know what you want me to say. It happened. Now it’s done.”

“Your armor’s up.”

The four kids turned to the source of the voice. Emma had abandoned her cup of coffee and was staring at their table.

“Excuse me?” Mal sneered at her. Emma seemed to take the question as an invitation to join the conversation because she made her way across the diner and leaned against their booth closest to Mal. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders and landed inches from Mal’s face. Mal instinctively recoiled backwards, leaning into Carlos sitting next to her. He put a hand on her shoulder, although Mal wasn’t sure if he was comforting her or if it was his small attempt at protecting her from this stranger.

“Your armor’s up,” Emma repeated herself.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Emma shrugged her shoulders. “Life’s tough- I get it. So you’ve gotta be tough too. But it seems like you’ve got some good friends here. Maybe you don’t have to be tough around them. Maybe you can let your armor down.”

Mal was at a loss for words. She couldn’t tell what she was feeling, but she was feeling a lot of it. Emma had some nerve speaking to her like she knew Mal. Emma had the pleasure of living a cushy life in a cushy town while Mal had the pleasure of eating rats her whole life.

“You don’t know me,” Mal finally spit out. She had meant the words to sound fierce, but she felt clumsy as she stuttered them out instead. Mal prided herself on her thick armor (metaphorically speaking. It was a good metaphor, after all) and in less than ten sentences some blonde stranger named Emma had dented them.

Once again, Emma shrugged her shoulders as she stood back up and walked back to the counter. She took her wallet out and handed the old woman a card.

“For the coffee. Oh, and whatever they’re having too.” Emma gestured to the booth.

“We’re not a fucking charity case,” Mal called out. Carlos quickly elbowed her in the ribs and leaned towards her.

“Mal, we could get _milkshakes_.”

Anyone that grew up on the Isle of the Lost responded to the promise of food and Mal was no exception. She showed her resignation by muttering a small “ _whatever_ ” and going back to her dinner, which had mostly turned into using her finger to lick up the last of the crumbs.

With the transaction at the counter completed, Emma weaved her way through the tables towards the front of the door. Mal deliberately stared at her plate to instill a sense of disinterest and was annoyed at herself when she looked up at the sound of the bell ringing and Emma calling out.

“You’ve kept your armor on for so long, Mal. Don’t forget that you don’t need it when you’re with the ones you love.” And with that, Emma walked out of the diner and let the door slam behind her.

Mal was silent for the rest of the meal. Even Evie was smart enough to keep to herself. It’s nearly impossible to frown while drinking your first milkshake, but Mal somehow managed it. She even kept frowning when the old woman (who introduced herself as nothing but Granny) explained to them the concept of doggie bags and sent the kids out at the end of the night with everything Carlos had pointed to on the menu.

“As soon as I get gas, we’ll be good to go,” Jay announced. “Are we headed anywhere in particular?”

Evie and Carlos shook their heads. There was a moment of silence where Mal would normally take charge of the decision-making, but she was too busy holding her head in her hand, staring out the window, and generally pouting.

“Anywhere but home,” Evie said eventually.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Thirty minutes later, the town of Storybrooke was behind them, but Mal hadn’t noticed. She wasn’t paying attention to anything but her own thoughts. They circled in her mind like a tornado, and each one only allowed her only a glance before a new one took its place. Fighting with Harry. Finding Evie and Carlos half-dead in the street. Celebrating each piece of stolen fruit with her friends. Tending to an endless amount of injuries. Crying herself to sleep when nobody could hear her. Witnessing Jay’s tender moments when they were alone.

And intertwining all of them, the feeling of long blonde hair tickling her face as a woman leaned over her. Mal could almost hear the song she somehow knew the woman was singing. A happy memory that didn’t feel real.

The woman scooped Mal up in her arms and held her tight. Mal’s tiny hands held on just as fiercely as the woman whispered to her.

“You’re a survivor, Mal. But even survivors can find love too.”

The voice sounded so familiar. Mal had to remind herself to keep breathing as the feeling of being held faded away.

“M?” Evie’s voice poked through Mal’s thoughts and brought her back to the front seat of the car. Mal’s cheeks were wet and in the back of her mind she wondered how that had happened.

“I think my armor might be down,” Mal managed to get out. Evie put a hand on her shoulder and Jay put one on her leg while keeping his eyes on the road.

“We’re here for you, M. Talk to us.”

Mal nodded. She took a deep breath and for the first time in her life, she started to heal.


End file.
